The Haircut
by GetHomeToNam
Summary: In which our favourite potions master becomes desirable #1


A/N - hahah this is an evil little plot bunny, might do a part 2 soon but this won't be a long fic I can tell you that :)

Severus Snape was not a vain man.

Grumpy? Yes. Snarky? Most certainly. Petty? Perhaps a little. But he was not vain. Yet, everyone

wants to change things up in their lives, once in a while. And for 26 year old, Professor Severus Snape, it was his hair.

The man in question had his epiphany as he was walking down the high street in Hogsmeade (supervising the Christmas shopping trip for the students), past the Dervish and Banges, but just before Galdrags Wizardwear, where he stopped and stared at a crocked, medieval style building. He seemed to have remembered it being bordered up before now, but the irregular windows were sparkling in the winter sunshine, and a sign saying "Peyton and Peggy's Barbers" in bright cursive. Snape stood back and contemplated his life for a small moment. In the corner of his eyes he could see his limp, black hair hanging.

What was there to loose? No one took any notice of his appearance anyway, so they wouldn't notice. And a little trim might make it less limp and straggly. He was not sure if it would change the greasiness though. So, he went inside.

"Customer!" A young man with swoopy turquoise hair and a razor sharp jawline sashayed to the door to greet Snape, a slight German accent touching his voice. Snape looked over his surroundings. Swivel chairs by the walls, with mirrors and shelves and shelves of various hair and beauty products. A small, curvy young woman looked a little out of breath, and dance music was being pounded around the room.

"I'm sorry, you just valked in on our little dance party. It can get a little boring here, there's not been many costumers. I presume all they are all buying ze Christmas presents," the bubbly turquoise haired man spoke. "But now, ve have you!"

He led Snape to a chair and sat him down, looking at him through the mirror. He stroked his head with his long, manicured fingers, keeping his face professionally clear. Snape felt completely out of his depth. And enormously self conscious of his hair.

"What would you like today sir?"

"A haircut."

"Oh really?" Amusement laced his voice, (Severus guessed had to be called 'Peyton'). "I know a hairstyle which will suit that beautiful bone structure perfectly, would you like to see a picture?"

He walked over to a dog eared magazine and flipped to a page, handing it to Snape.

"Uh, yes, wow, that would be great thank you."

"No problem sir. Would you like a beverage? Water? Tea?"

"No thank you." Snape had learnt from a young age not to accept drinks from, well, anyone. Peyton put a black gown over his shoulders and tucked his hair out from underneath. Using his wand, he created a ball of warm water that held his hair, and he massaged some shampoo into Snape's scalp. Snape admired this little bit of wand work.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

"Alright, here ve go." The hairdryer had just been switched off, and Severus looked at himself in the mirror. Wow. He looked different. So different. Like a completely different person. His hair was short at the sides, and at the top it was longer, and swooped backwards. It no longer looked greasy and straggled, but shiny and thick. His faced even looked different. His cheekbones and jaw were defined and chiselled, and his dark eyes looked larger.

"Nice work, Peyton." The curvy lady commented.

"I know, Peg! If, I do say so myself", Peyton finished sheepishly. "Now, May I recommend these hair products, to be used every other night, and I can show you a spell to make it blow dried like this. It is a special spell and is personal to each individual, so I had to create your hair like this first, before the spell knows to recreate it, if you get me."

Snape nodded. He had just managed to tear his eyes away from his reflection. He was not vain, he told himself. He reached into his pocket for the required money, 3 galleons, 6 sickles. Thanking the perky shop owners, he left the warm shop for the chilly outside.

Either the students were ignoring him, or they just completely did not recognise Snape, because his usual prowling was not having the required effect on the 3rd years and above.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Severus slid open the door to the staff room unobtrusively. Just as he was about to sit down a gasp was heard from his left side.

"Oh my, Severus. Is that you?" Album Dumbledore was twirling his beard with his long, slender fingers. This gained the attention of the other teachers, who it turn focused their eyes on the dark haired man. Severus himself glared at them all. Moreover, he was confused. _What are they looking at_? A horrible thought struck him where he thought he had a but of food on his mouth. Quick hand to check - nope he was safe. So what _was_ their problem?

"Woah, Severus, your hair."

 _Ah yes, he thought,_ his hair _. That blasted idea. Why did he have to go into that shop. He probably looked completely absurd, like a muggle punk rocker._

With a growl, he swiped a custard cream and swept out of the staff room, his robes billowing behind him. Just as he was about to retrieve a hair growing potion from his personal stocks (don't ask why they were readily available), the lunchtime bell rang. Rolling his eyes with a huff, he changed directions, and took off for the great hall.


End file.
